


Odd Mixture

by hongbab



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, M/M, Marriage Proposal, what is romance what is love (baby don't hurt me)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-09 07:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongbab/pseuds/hongbab
Summary: “Han Sanghyuk asked me out today.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> written for [this](http://hongbab.tumblr.com/post/167805828206/prompt-hyukvi-are-nervous-bc-they-really-like) request

Imagine a 20-odd-year-old boy with the prettiest uneven eyes that you’ve ever seen. Give him a uniquely fleshy nose that seems to spread in the middle of his face even more as he laughs. He also has a pair of cute, pink lips with the corners naturally upturned a bit as if he is always battling a laugh that wants to burst out of him and when he smiles, his perfectly white teeth almost blind a certain unlucky bastard. His chiselled jawline is remarkable as well, just as his boyishly crumpled ears and his almost offensive height, his strong thighs and his big yet soft-looking hands. Lastly, add a large amount of cleverness, humour, ambition, and talent to the mix and stir well. That’s Sanghyuk.

Take another boy who is roughly the same age as the one above (if a little older), give him sleepy, droopy eyes, a big nose and tiny lips, and sprinkle some mental breakdown on top. That’s Wonshik.

Wonshik keeps staring at the desktop in front of him with his fingers in his black hair, supporting his head in his hands with his elbows on the desk. He really doesn’t know how he ended up here—not physically, because he knows he walked into his dorm room thirty minutes ago, but emotionally. Mentally. Psychologically.

There’s a grunt coming from behind and Wonshik hears Hongbin sit down on his own bed, clasping his hands with a clap that makes Wonshik's eyelids flutter in surprise. Apart from that, he still doesn’t move.

“Okay,” Hongbin says, sighing. “I thought I’d let you tell me what’s wrong with you, because you always complain about your life even when I don’t care, but you’ve been sitting there unmoving ever since I came in. Will you finally tell me what’s up or will you wait for me to beg? Not that I’d do that, just—”

“I don’t know,” Wonshik mumbles, blinking slowly.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Hongbin asks, speaking fast like he does whenever he’s annoyed. “You don’t know what your problem is?”

“No. I don’t.”

Hongbin sniffles impatiently and gets up from his bed, standing by the desk with his hands in his pockets—Wonshik can see him from his peripheral vision, but he really doesn’t want to look at his friend right now. People talk about killer looks in conditional sentences, but Wonshik once saw a spider drop from the ceiling after Hongbin had noticed it was making a web in the corner of the freshly cleaned dorm room. The spider didn’t move anymore.

“Did you ask Jaeeun out again?”

“No,” Wonshik replies. Now that he’s thinking about it, Jaeeun seems to be a thing of the distant past, as if he didn’t just get rejected by her for the fourth time two months ago.

“Fine,” Hongbin declares in a tone that suggests he doesn’t think it is fine at all. “You’ll write a song about it anyway and I’ll be forced to listen to it on loop.” He sniffles again and turns around, striding to his side of the closet.

“I won’t,” Wonshik mutters.

“Oh, come on,” Hongbin tsks, unbuttoning his shirt. “You _always_ write about your heartbreaks.”

“I’m not heartbroken,” Wonshik says, sitting up straight. Hongbin cocks an eyebrow, but doesn’t look convinced at all. “And I can’t compose.”

“Ah, creativity crisis,” Hongbin nods and shrugs his white button-up off.

Wonshik is glad he’s already sitting.

Hongbin has a… very nice body and Wonshik feels as if he got struck in the head with a huge rock as the realization hits him. Hongbin's muscles tense up on his back as he bends over the bed to fold his shirt, his biceps bulging when he reaches up to the top shelf of the closet where he has his T-shirts. He has a nice six-pack, too—a six-pack that, in Wonshik's opinion, looks more desirable than his own, but… that six-pack doesn’t only look _desirable_ right now. It looks hot and Wonshik wonders if Sanghyuk has a similar-looking tummy, if his pecs are bigger than Hongbin's or even Wonshik's; he wonders if the muscles between Sanghyuk's ribs look as defined as Hongbin's.

It’s sick and upsetting, but he ends up visualising Sanghyuk in the shower with the water steaming around him as he smears body wash all over himself like those model-like actors in TV commercials. Sanghyuk always smells nice, too. Wonshik is curious about what kind of body wash he uses.

He whines out loud.

“I’m gay.”

Time seems to stop as Wonshik says that with his eyes tearing up in embarrassment. Hongbin was halfway putting on his T-shirt, but now stops with the collar around his head. When he finally pulls it down very slowly, he blinks at Wonshik twice.

“I mean, no,” Wonshik shakes his head, “I like boys, it’s— it’s both, I like… both...”

“Wonshik…”

“Han Sanghyuk asked me out today.”

“What?” Hongbin furrows his brow, sitting back down on his mattress. “Han Sanghyuk? That second year guy from the fourth floor? The one who… you know,” he straightens and keeps his arms away from his body in an attempt to imitate Sanghyuk's wide-shouldered appearance. Wonshik nods. “Are you sure he was actually asking you out?”

“No need to sound so doubtful,” Wonshik grumbles. “He asked me if I wanted to have a coffee with him tomorrow—”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“— _AND_ I asked him if he meant it as a date,” Wonshik continues, feeling quite miffed at Hongbin for thinking he’s stupid. “He said, ‘I guess’, and smiled. He _smiled_ at me, Hongbin.”

“Mm-hmm,” Hongbin nods. “Okay, look, Wonshik. I’m not trying to play your parent, but saying you’re gay is… a huge thing and, so, are you sure you’re not just confused?”

Wonshik glares at him, but doesn’t say anything as he crawls over to his bed and pulls the duvet over his head, rolling to his side to face the wall. He really doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He never wanted to just hold the hand of a boy or sit in a boy’s lap or have another boy sit in _his_ lap or… or just whisper nice things into a guy’s ear. The nature of his fantasies about boys has always been more… physical and a lot simpler—in the emotional sense, anyway. Even so, what he really wants right now is to curl up in Sanghyuk's hold and feel as small as possible, no matter how he and Sanghyuk seem to be of the same height. He feels hopelessly smitten and at the same time, he doesn’t know who he is anymore. He wants to cry.

 

 

Wonshik opens the door of the café to let Sanghyuk step out into the cold December weather first, trying to seem as gentlemanly as one can be. There’s a mirror on the wall on his left and when Wonshik's eyes meet his reflection’s, he sees the ashy grey colour of his own face. No wonder he felt like puking—he even seems like he’s about to do just that.

“It’s snowing again,” Sanghyuk says, scrunching up his nose as he looks up at the sky.

His face seems gilded in the yellowish streetlights, the shadows of his features emphasizing the sparkling of his eyes even more. Wonshik quickly averts his eyes, his cheeks heating up.

There are warm fingers around his almost frozen right hand and Wonshik winces, his entire right arm going numb as Sanghyuk squeezes his palm gently for a few moments before letting go of it.

“Wonshik.”

When Wonshik looks up, he can’t find Sanghyuk next to him but has to turn around, seeing the boy standing a few steps behind, head lowered as if he’s particularly interested in the small cracks on the pavement.

“Yes?” Wonshik asks, though he’s unsure if it’s actually comprehensible. He can see his breath leaving his mouth and he can hear the grating creak of his voice, but that doesn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean anything back in the café either.

“I…” Sanghyuk takes a deep breath and steps closer, but doesn’t look up at Wonshik. “I’m sorry if I misunderstood you or made you uncomfortable. It’s probably better if I…” he makes a vague movement with his hands, puts them in his coat pockets, and with a sad glance at Wonshik's face, proceeds to walk towards the dormitory building that is only a few metres away.

“I live there, too, though,” Wonshik mumbles, but stays still until Sanghyuk disappears from sight.

 

 

When Hongbin opens the door to their room, he knocks over an empty beer bottle that rolls against Wonshik's knee on the floor and he yelps unnecessarily, as if it actually hurt. It didn’t. Nothing hurts as much as his heart right now. 

“Oh my God!” Hongbin cries out, horrified. 

When Wonshik looks up at him through his tears and the snot that seems to be clogging up his sinuses and thus blunting his senses, he notices that Hongbin isn’t looking at him with worry creasing his forehead, but at the tiny drops of remaining beer dripping on the floor from the bottle. Wonshik gulps down too much of the alcohol in his hand and starts coughing.

“What the fuck happened here?” Hongbin asks, stepping in and collecting the four bottles he finds on the floor.

“Sanghyuk thinks I don’t like him,” Wonshik slurs, drinking again and fighting the tight sensation in his throat.

“No, I mean, why did you think it was okay to make a mess in here?” Hongbin grumbles, throwing the plastic bag Wonshik carried the booze home into the trashcan. 

“I fucked up,” Wonshik says, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“You did, but… ugh, okay, tell me.”

Hongbin sits on his bed, watching Wonshik expectantly.

“There’s nothing to tell,” Wonshik shrugs. He feels so nauseous and sleepy… and he wants to kiss Sanghyuk so bad. “He talked to me about himself and I couldn’t even speak. He held my hand and I froze up. I wanted to kiss him, but he walked away. What am I supposed to do, Hongbin? How do I… how…?”

“First of all, you’re lame and can’t talk to anyone you find hot,” Hongbin says. “Maybe you should’ve made that clear to him. Secondly, I have no idea how dating works. Thirdly, drinking until you pass out won’t solve anything.”

Hongbin takes the half full (or rather half empty) bottle of beer from Wonshik and places it on his desk so Wonshik can’t reach it from his spot on the floor.

“And lastly, you should probably talk to him—”

“Right,” Wonshik says, scrambling to his feet, “I’m going to talk to him.”

“Tomorrow, Wonshik!” Hongbin yells, but Wonshik is already opening the door. “Talk to him tomorrow when you’re sober!”

Wonshik doesn’t listen. He walks to the staircase with a hand on the wall, closing one of his eyes in an attempt to get rid of his double vision. He stumbles up the stairs until he reaches the fourth floor, feeling sicker with each step he takes before stopping in front of room 412, heaving as he knocks three times.

“Coming!” a cheerful voice behind the door says. “Oh… hi.”

Wonshik lifts his heavy head, blinking slowly at Sanghyuk's tiny little roommate, Jaehwan, who grimaces at the sight of him as if Wonshik is a roach running around in circles on his porch. Wonshik feels like one.

“I want…” he breathes. “Sanghyuk…”

“Get in line, Casanova,” Jaehwan quips, but then the door opens wider and Sanghyuk is standing there, looking displeased with the way Jaehwan is handling the situation. “Fine,” Jaehwan rolls his eyes. “I was going to have dinner at Taekwoon's anyway.”

With that, he takes his coat and puts on his shoes, walking past Wonshik with a momentum that almost tips Wonshik over. Like a mini tornado.

“You’re barefoot.”

Wonshik looks up at Sanghyuk, confused, and then back down at his feet. He wiggles his naked toes on the cold stone flooring.

“I forgot to put on shoes,” he mutters.

He hears Sanghyuk sigh above him and then there’s a hand under his arm, guiding him inside where the wooden floorboards feel warm. Sanghyuk pushes him down by his shoulder, making Wonshik sit on an unmade bed with some kind of anime pattern on the bedsheets. Wonshik can’t tell if it’s Sanghyuk's or Jaehwan's, because there are similar bedsheets on the other bed as well. He wants to know what kind of anime Sanghyuk likes, even if Wonshik himself isn’t really interested in those shows.  When he looks up at Sanghyuk, he feels new tears pricking his eyes.

“Why are you here?” Sanghyuk asks while he pulls a desk chair to the bed, sitting down opposite Wonshik.

“I don’t—” Wonshik shakes his head, but that only makes him feel dizzier. “Hongbin told me— ugh. I wanted to tell you why… why I was such an idiot.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” Sanghyuk says and fuck, he looks so handsome even when he’s upset. “Maybe my gaydar is not developed enough yet.” He laughs bitterly.

“No, it’s— it is, I think,” Wonshik stutters. “You’re the first guy I really… liked. Ever. In the sense that I… that I would like to just sit and listen to music with you or, watch a zombie movie or watch you… play on your phone or whatever you want to do. And I don’t know how to tell you.”

He watches as Sanghyuk's eyes start crinkling at the corners, his nostrils widening and his pretty white teeth showing as he smiles, blinking down at his hands shyly. “What do you think you’re doing right now if not just that?” he asks and as he glances back up at Wonshik, the hurt and upset have disappeared from his beautiful face.

“Yeah, but,” Wonshik takes a deep breath to keep his nausea down, “but I also wanted to tell you… I get stupid around people I like in the— uh, romantic sense. I get stupider. I can’t really talk to them and I’m just, you know, awkward.”

“Wonshik, it’s my first time _liking_ a guy, too,” Sanghyuk says and Wonshik vaguely notices that he has leant closer. “I know how nervous you feel, but, really, you could’ve sent me at least some signals.”

“I tried,” Wonshik sniffles. “I tried, but I’m the worst at that, even though… even though I wanted to kiss you so bad, I still want to kiss you so bad. Can I kiss you while I’m still drunk and brave?”

Sanghyuk bursts out laughing and Wonshik wants to laugh as well, but he’s too embarrassed and his ears are burning. He holds Sanghyuk's left cheek in his hand instead and pushes forward, pressing his lips to Sanghyuk's smile, kissing him softly. Sanghyuk kisses him back, opening his mouth and placing a hand on Wonshik's neck, his fingers playing with the short hairs on Wonshik's nape.

When they stop kissing some long, long minutes later and Sanghyuk has pulled him into a tight hug, Wonshik already knows he won’t remember anything in the morning. He won’t remember anything but the best kiss of his life—the kiss that made him the happiest he’s ever been.

Maybe, but just maybe, the mixture of the two of them isn’t as odd as he thought.


	2. Sequel: Just Say Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He then thinks about all the times he caught Sanghyuk humming Wonshik’s self-written songs under the shower or while looking for something edible in the fridge. He really, really loves Sanghyuk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> based on [this](http://hongbab.tumblr.com/post/167869617421/omg-prompts-are-open-may-i-request-a-fluffy) request

“Okay, _this_ ,” Hongbin gestures vaguely around the room, “is you guys’ first date all over again. Aren’t you a little too old to act like a college kid?”

Wonshik closes the distance between them with two long strides, bending over Hongbin as intimidatingly as he can, but his knees are shaking and he has to fight gravity with all the willpower he has, so he won’t just fall on his best friend.

“I am about to ask the love of my life to spend the rest of our lives together,” he says slowly and a lot less firmly than he intended. “I have _every_ right to walk up and down here, so you just go back to your task, please.”

“I don’t even know why this is such a huge thing, really,” Hongbin says, shaking his head judgingly as he takes yet another stack of video games off his shelf and gathers them between his legs, inspecting case after case, only to stack them up in a different pile on his left. “You guys have been together for, like, ten years—”

“ _Three_. It’s been three years, Hongbin.”

“Yeah, which is about ten years in relationship years,” Hongbin replies. “He’s been living with you for a really long time and he hasn’t run away yet, so I doubt he’s planning to do so in the near future.”

Wonshik's knees finally give in under him, but he manages to stumble to the couch like Bambi on the ice, collapsing on the cushions.

“Do you think he’ll say no?” he asks, voice trembling and tears pricking his eyes. This is the first time he actually thinks about that possibility and it makes his limbs go cold, his vision getting fuzzy at the edges.

Through the fog in front of his eyes, he sees Hongbin glance up at him, frowning in what almost looks like true worry. “Wonshik?” he asks and stands up, walking up to his friend to put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. You’re not going to puke, right?”

“I might,” Wonshik croaks, sniffling loudly.

“Ew, gross,” Hongbin mumbles and hands him a tissue, stepping back with a grimace on his face as he watches Wonshik blow his nose. “I mean, I don’t think he’ll say no, but, you know, you have to be prepared for the worst.”

Wonshik feels his heart skip a beat. He looks up from the tissue and his eyes feel warm; a heavy teardrop falls from his right eye, rolling down his cheek and ultimately reaching his quivering lips.

“Oh no,” Hongbin says and as if on command, Wonshik starts sobbing in earnest. “Come on, Wonshik, I’m just joking!”

“Are you really?!” Wonshik heaves.

“Yes! Maybe? God, Wonshik, but he loves you!”

Wonshik's tears get cut off. He almost chokes on a sob, but swallows the urge to cough, sniffling again, pouting. Hongbin is looking at him as one would look at a baby after accidentally dropping him on the kitchen floor.

“Do you think he really does?” Wonshik asks, voice nasal.

“Yeah, absolutely!” Hongbin exclaims, the worry visibly melting off him. “He gets really mushy when he talks about you and Jaehwan can’t even stand drinking with him anymore, because all he does is talk about you, so… yeah. I guess he really loves you?”

Wonshik nods slowly, bunching up the tissue in his right palm. He thinks of Sanghyuk, of his smile and his eyes, of his fingers in Wonshik's hand, of his voice and his laugh, the way he purses his lips when trying to concentrate on something. He thinks of their first kiss in Sanghyuk and Jaehwan's shared dorm room, when Wonshik was drunk as a skunk, and of the first time they fumbled under the bedsheets, banishing Hongbin from the room he lived in with Wonshik. He also recalls their first anniversary, when Sanghyuk combined three cups of instant ramyeon in a large bowl and served it with a bottle of cheap, sour red wine, blushing when Wonshik awkwardly praised his cooking—also blushing. He then thinks about all the times he caught Sanghyuk humming Wonshik's self-written songs under the shower or while looking for something edible in the fridge. He really, really loves Sanghyuk.

“Earth to Wonshik.”

Wonshik blinks a few to drag himself back from the pink clouds, looking questioningly at Hongbin who is now standing a few feet away, holding up a video game case with a faded cover image.

“I found it,” Hongbin says, waving the plastic. “So, are we doing this?”

“Yeah,” Wonshik replies and he can’t hide his smile. “Yeah, we’re doing this.”

 

 

It is safe to say that Wonshik is a nervous person by nature. But even as he enters the flat he shares with Sanghyuk, he feels adrenaline surge through his veins like the aftershocks of a huge earthquake, leaving him dizzy and almost blacking out—something he doesn’t experience often.

“Finally!” he hears from the bedroom, Sanghyuk barging into the entrance hall in a pair of sweatpants and a worn T-shirt, his hair sticking up on one side and the pimple on his chin glowing redder than it did in the morning. Wonshik practically melts from the sight. “Okay, hold up. Where’s the food?”

“Oh?” Wonshik squeaks, quite unlike him. He looks down at his hands, looking for the grocery bags he should be carrying, but only finds the video game case he brought from Hongbin's. “I forgot to go to the store.”

“What?” Sanghyuk asks indignantly. “You literally left to go to the store though?”

“Yeah, I— I ran into Hongbin and… um, he invited me for coffee,” Wonshik lies, kicking off his shoes.

“You don’t even drink coffee anymore, Wonshik, what’s going on?”

Sanghyuk's expression is suspicious as he follows Wonshik's moves, making Wonshik feel rather conscious of the jerkiness of his movements while he pads into the living room.

“Wonshik, are you— are you lying to me right now?”

“No!” Wonshik exclaims, looking back at a disbelieving Sanghyuk. “Uh, look, Hongbin told me to give you this. He said he’d borrowed it from you a while ago.”

He reaches the plastic case out to Sanghyuk, standing in the doorway anxiously.

“It was about time, but,” Sanghyuk takes the case from Wonshik, throwing it on the couch, “I’m so confused.”

“Don’t you want to open it?” Wonshik mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, almost drawing blood from how hard he digs his nails into his skin. “To see if it’s… the right disc?”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Just open it, okay?”

Sanghyuk stares at him silently for a few more beats, but then he just sighs and takes the case into his hands to pop it open, grimacing. “There’s no— oh.”

It’s an infinitely long moment when Sanghyuk finally sees it and freezes up, making Wonshik's stomach drop, feeling like he might be sick. Sanghyuk lifts his eyes, all but piercing Wonshik's skull with his gaze, and then he looks down again, into the video game case. He takes some steps back, wobbling a little, and then finally sits down on the couch, eyes fixed on the middle of the plastic box.

“Listen, if you don’t—”

“Is this…” Sanghyuk starts softly, touching the simple white gold band with a satin finish tentatively, “is this what I think it is?”

“Only if you want,” Wonshik whispers, because that’s all he can do. “I mean, it’s meant to be… what you think it is meant to be.” He shuffles over to the couch, thanking the gods for letting him stay upright. “Look, I know this is sudden and if you don’t want to—”

“Can you just… can you just ask me?” Sanghyuk glances up at him and the corner of his lips are shaking, and Wonshik wonders how romantic it would be if they both threw up on the floor at the same time. _Very_ romantic, he thinks.

“Yeah, um,” Wonshik swallows hard. “I think if I went down on one knee I’d faint, so—”

“ _Wonshik_.”

“Okay, um,” Wonshik takes a deep breath, “will you marry me, Sanghyuk? Please.”

To his surprise, Sanghyuk bursts out laughing, _giggling_ , really, burying his face in the video game case, so it’s impossible for Wonshik to get the ring out of the hub of teeth between which he asked Hongbin to fasten it (breaking off some of those stupid teeth) so it won’t rattle inside the plastic. Wonshik looks up at the ceiling, waiting for Sanghyuk to finish laughing his butt off, biting the skin on his right index finger to distract himself from the anxiety that is slowly but surely eating away at him.

Sanghyuk's giggling fit stops after a few painfully long seconds and he rubs his eyes, grinning widely as he stands up and embraces Wonshik so tightly that Wonshik can feel the trembles running through Sanghyuk's entire body.

“I’m sorry,” Sanghyuk chuckles, “but this is the cutest proposal in the least cheesy way possible and I’m just so happy. Yes, Wonshik, I’ll definitely marry you.”

“Fuck yes,” Wonshik groans and his knees finally buckle as if they were just waiting for the relief that comes to Wonshik with Sanghyuk's answer. “God, Sanghyuk, you’re the worst!”

“I’m sorry!” Sanghyuk says again and pulls back, pressing a small kiss to Wonshik's mouth. “Let’s put this on.”

Wonshik takes the ring out of the case and clumsily tries to put the ring on Sanghyuk's finger until Sanghyuk just takes the whole thing into his own hands and finishes it for himself. He takes a look at the way the band sits on his finger and then looks back up at Wonshik, his eyes sparkling prettily as he leans in and kisses Wonshik once more, laughing into his mouth. Wonshik's heart feels so full.

“This,” Sanghyuk says when he pulls back, lifting his hand with the ring, “however, does not make up for the fact that you didn’t bring food.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Do you want extra cheese on your pizza?” Sanghyuk asks, stepping away from Wonshik to take his phone from the coffee table, already calling their favourite pizza place by the time Wonshik nods.

Wonshik watches him pace up and down in the living room, ordering two pepperoni pizzas (one with extra cheese), holding out his left hand in front of him and keeping his eyes on his ring, grinning to himself.

Wonshik has never felt so in love.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to talk to me about any of my stories or just vixx in general on [tumblr](http://hongbab.tumblr.com/), [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/hongbab) or [aff](http://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1061753) ♡ please support me on [ko-fi.com](https://ko-fi.com/hongbab) if you can ♡


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